Keys
by Maple Fay
Summary: Based on the spoilers for "Joy to the World", and obviously NOT what the writers and producers have in mind. What kind of Christmas gifts would House and Cuddy exchange...? One-shot.


**A/N:** So, right—I'm new to writing _House_, but I simply had to get it off my chest and procure my own version of "Joy to the World", since I have to wait until (at best) Wednesday evening American time to watch it in my corner of the world… Hope you enjoy this humble attempt. This will definitely NOT happen on the show, but honestly—who doesn't need some pre-Christmas fluff? (I know I do…)

Feedback is love!

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This desk was more than a piece of furniture. It was a _friend_,coming back to her after a long absence, and Lisa Cuddy knew its every surface and curve.

Last night she didn't have time to say 'hello' properly, seeing that _someone _had irritated the hell out of her. Now, safe behind her office doors, she smoothed her palms across the cool wood, remembering—this was the spot where she used to put her coffee mug on the pre-exam nights; that was where it spilled one evening when she almost banged her head against the desk, half-asleep over anatomy book. It knew her, as well, she was quite sure of it.

Leaning back on her chair, she studied the front: chestnut brown legs, two set of drawers… Hang on. Lisa furrowed her brow, noticing a lock having been installed in the middle drawer on the right hand side. She pulled the handle experimentally, with no avail, of course. All warm feelings she had towards the desk cooled down momentarily—now she felt like it betrayed her, or rather had been talked into it by the man who had the lock put in.

He was screwing with her _again_!

And no, there was no other explanation, at least not a believable one. Her mother confirmed on the phone it was House who got the desk out of the storage, and claimed she had done nothing to renovate it—he promised he'd take care of it.

_And he sure did_, Lisa thought maliciously, gritting her teeth. She wanted to run upstairs and punch House into a pulp, for messing up with her job, her private life, her emotions, and now, to top to all up, with her beloved _desk_! On _Christmas_! Inhaling deeply, the Dean of Medicine stood up from her extremely comfortable chair—at sat back down, at the sight of two obviously scared doctors standing outside the glass door to her office.

She motioned them to come in, and they obeyed, Taub first, holding a medical file, Kutner on his heels. They said their hellos, and simply stood there, stepping from one foot to the other, and wincing whenever they met each other's eyes—or hers, for the record.

"What did House do now?" Lisa demanded, tired of the games, the hit-and-run that seemed to be _the_ favorite activity of all the diagnostics team. Kutner swallowed hard and stepped up.

"It's not about Doctor House, it's about us."

Lisa raised a perfectly shaped brow and pretended to be interested.

"I put up a website, to give people medical consults in House's name," the young doctor explained, blushing furiously, "and he found out about it. Yesterday he paid this girl, a class 'C' actress and a…" he noticed Lisa's expression and quickly dropped the case, "…well, he made her come in and pretend to have a medical condition we couldn't cure, and made fun of us, and now he's nastier than even, and we think he might fire us—"

Lisa had to do her best not to burst up laughing, knowing that yet another painful stab into her employees' morale wouldn't exactly be the best way for the Dean to solve the case. Instead of laughing her head off, Lisa blinked a couple of times and tried to regain her composure—especially after her mind registered the actual meaning of Kutner's words.

_A 'Class C' actress, and a hooker_.

The blonde she saw House with the other night.

Suddenly it all made perfect sense. Not that the fact itself was by any chance easier to swallow, oh no, not by a long shot.

"I am sure that Doctor House's rage will pass. After all, it's Christmas," she told them dismissively, wanting only to be left alone and think the whole deal over. "I, on my side, will not approve his decisions, if he actually makes a move to fire either of you. Now, if you don't mind, I have some work to do—"

Taub half-jumped up, as if woken up from a deep sleep, and presented her the file he was holding. "We shall go now. Thank you for support, Doctor Cuddy."

Lisa took the file from his hand, and suspiciously eyed the unmarked cover. "What is this?"

"House asked us to deliver it to you," Taub explained flinching uneasily, and left hastily, leaving her with a navy blue file in hand, a crooked brow and a feeling of general weirdness in the air. Shaking her head in disbelief, she opened the file, and blinked.

It was filled with empty pages.

Intrigued, Lisa flipped through the pages, looking for any reason at all why this particular file should find itself in her hands—and finally, her efforts have been rewarded: a small envelope, seal with red wax, was attached to the inside of back cover. Lisa broke the seal with impatient fingers and turned the envelope upside down, allowing its contents to fall down onto her desk.

A key.

A small, metal key, with a piece of red ribbon tied around it.

Could it be?, she wondered, and tried to open the drawer with shaky fingers.

It fit.

A soft click sounded as the key turned in its lock, and the drawer seemed to jump into Lisa's waiting hands, revealing another envelope, this time a big, brown one, visibly bulging with its contents. Lisa pulled it out, her pulse quickening, and broke yet another red wax seal, pulling out…

Adoption documents?!

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She cried for an hour before she composed herself enough to pick up the receiver and place a call to the child's mother.

After she put the receiver back down, she cried some more.

Finally, picking her purse up from the floor and roaming through its contents for a minute or two, she pressed an intercom button to call her assistant. The girl, freshly employed and visibly tensed, walked in and smiled, folding her hands nervously.

"I want you to make a copy of it," Lisa demanded, handing her a small package with a note attached, "then take it to the diagnostics team's office—but not right away. Wait until, let's say, five pm, would you?"

"Of course, Doctor Cuddy," the girl answered meekly, far too scared of her boss and the possibility of losing her newly acquired job to question her. When she left, clicking her heels on the outer office floor, Lisa fell back into her chair and brought one small, cool palm to her forehead.

She was going to be a mother, finally. The woman she talked to on the phone had a complicated personal life, and two small children already—she couldn't afford the third one, so she decided to give it up for adoption, entered the database… House double-checked everything, included copies of her medical records in the file; he even gave the woman an ultrasound _himself_ to make sure nobody messed the previous ones up! He gave her the best Christmas present of her life, right after he'd been seen getting all friendly with a hooker. He really _was_ a pain in the ass, and hurt her many more times than any other person had even had, but in the end she _did_ feel a little masochistic recently, what's with moving into his office and shamelessly flirting with him all the time. They both fought with their feelings, him more than her, struggling to give up something in order to gain some _more_—this wasn't a win-win situation, either of them could easily mess it up two weeks from now. They could end up hating each other, their mutual power play getting even nastier than it was right now.

And still—he made a great effort to find the right woman, the right child, and to present Lisa with something far more important than just her old desk.

The Dean of Medicine, a serious, accomplished, grown-up woman, laid her cheek against the table top and caressed the wood with her fingertips.

It was a perfect Christmas.

Or rather: it would be, if her present for House turned out to be… acceptable.

She checked her watch: it was half past five on Christmas Eve, a reasonable time to go home and prepare for a celebration. Smiling to herself, Lisa put her coat on and exited the office, for the first time in a long while not afraid to go back to an empty house.

0o0o0o0o0o

House was exhausted. The patient simply _had to_ crash right before he started to pack his things to call it a night. Honestly, people had no sense of decency, and/or respect at all, especially not for the doctors' plans for an evening. House had his last evening before Christmas carefully planned. There would be some whisky, piano jazz music, and lots of bed rest. This was a prefect plan, until midnight, which was about two hours ago. Right now all House wanted to do was to get himself into a bed, any bed, preferably a large, comfortable one, and sleep till noon. Not too ambitious, but good anyway.

He opened the door, pocketed the key and toed-off his shoes, not bothering to turn on the light. He didn't actually have to be quiet or anything, but the headache coming to life behind his eyes made him move far more gently and self-consciously than he usually did. Limping towards the bedroom, he undressed methodically, marking his way with carelessly scattered items of clothing. Finally, he found the edge of the bed in semi-darkness and dove under the covers, exhaling in relief as his muscles slowly began to relax.

"You will tidy up this mess first thing in the morning," Lisa said sleepily from her side of the bed, making no attempt to otherwise physically acknowledge his presence. House grinned, glad that she couldn't see his face in the dark, and rolled over to his side, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her close, his right palm spreading over her heart. He could feel it beating fast, pounding against her ribs, and was glad to know her indifference was just an act.

"I don't plan to be awake in the morning," he cut back, mumbling against her hair. She stretched, causing many pleasurable tinglings to rise in his body, and sighed.

"I thought you wouldn't come." There was no audible relief or sadness is this sentence: she simply stated a fact.

"Patient crashed."

"How unkind of him."

"Besides, you should have known better. I never let a key lie useless, especially one that's been given to me in a box," he continued, tracing small circles over her heart with his fingertips. "I think I'll need one more, though."

"To what?" she asked, half-asleep, deliciously warm and soft against him.

"To this," House answered, once more pressing his palm to her heart. Lisa yawned like a child, and moved one of her own hands down to cover his, fingers entwining.

"I think you have all the keys you need, House."

**The End**

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**A/N:** Please tell me what you thought! :)


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